


10 Years More

by Amydiddle



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: AU, Don't know if I ever will continue this, Fidds and Ford in the portal, Gen, Incomplete, RIP, So is Fiddleford, Stanford is mentioned, Welcome to Stan's life, but they not there, sorry - Freeform, unedited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-26
Updated: 2017-09-26
Packaged: 2019-01-05 21:19:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12197625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amydiddle/pseuds/Amydiddle
Summary: Stanley Pines is hitting his late 30s. He has lived a hard life on the road and only when he was in his darkest moment in '82 did he finally turn to family to help. Now, after a few years of living with his older brother, he is mostly on his feet. There are still days where he sleeps in his car but he at least knows he can make an honest living and turn to some people when in a terrible bind.Still the world does change in terrible ways and now Stan finds himself packing up once again to drive towards a person he is sure never wants to see him again just because his mother asked him to. The last time anyone even heard from him was that same year Stan dialed up Sherman's number, who said that the man just decided to fully cut himself off from family forever?What kind of town was Gravity Falls anyways? Whose to say Stanford even needed help?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this started out as a project at the beginning of the summer of 2017. I had been writing it when I got into a minor little accident and depression swept the idea down the drain. I tried to pick it back up but it failed. If I do, one day, continue to write it then it won't be any time soon. 
> 
> I hope you like what I did get down for 'Stanley's Tale' as it is called in my documents. I am sure that Stanford and Fiddleford's view of the world is more interesting then Stan's but I do have a special place in my heard for Lee.

Gravity Falls, Oregon. A small sleepy down in the middle of nowhere. The town was surrounded by mountains and probably was one of those back-water towns that did not accept outsiders. A perfect place to go to lay low if someone was on the run from certain people or go searching for someone that had dropped off the map almost ten years ago.

A red car sped down the lonesome stretch of road in the dark of night. The dim glow of the headlights were the only things making a dent in the shadows the trees and mountains were sending across the road. The driver hummed to himself to fill the silence that was surrounding him in the car.

The phone conversation he had had a month ago was still playing in his head and he was trying to drown it out.

_“Stanley, it is so good to hear from you.”_

_“Great to hear from you too, Ma. Sorry it has been awhile, got caught up in stuff…had to move a lot. What is going on with you?”_

_Silence._

Stanley reached for the radio to try and drown out to memory of the conversation. He spun the dials but all that came through was static. He would have put a tape in but the thing had been busted for years now. He was left with the only other option to be humming.

_“Ma?”_

_“Stan…I’m worried about your brother.”_

_“Shermie? I just talked to him a month ago. He seemed pretty unhappy that Sheryl is headed off the college now. Told him he should have been used to it after Jacob flew the coop but I guess it is different when both kids go off. That ain’t really something to worry about, Ma-._

_“No. No, Stanley, I’m… I’m not talking about him… I’m talking... I’m talking about Stanford.”_

_Silence._

Stan’s eyes landed on a sign that told him that the town of Gravity Falls was just twenty miles away. With the lack of people on the road he did not care to be cautious. The man pressed down on the gas to speed up his car and get there faster.

_“He hasn’t called in years and the post office said they stopped delivering my letters.”_

_“Maybe he just dropped off the face of the Earth, Ma. He was never good at calling you.”_

_“I don’t think it is that. I just have that feeling he is in danger; I’ve had this feeling for a while.”_

_“What do you want me to do?”_

_“I just…I know you don’t want to talk to him but can you just go up and check on him? Please, Stanley, just to make sure he is okay.”_

The welcoming sign of the hidden town of Gravity Falls came into view as the radio finally picked up a signal. Some late-night show began to play music and chased away the memory as he drove towards the labeled exit.

“This better be something bad, Sixer,” he grumbled as he turned the car, “I didn’t come all this way for nothing.”

Even as he said those words the idea of his twin being in some sort of danger made his stomach squirm in nervousness. The gut feeling only worsened as he drove closer to the allusive town; it almost seemed the woods that surrounded the road was watching.

Stan slowed his car down when he spotted a street sign that was almost covered by the wild woods. The man had to squint just to read the words. Gopher Road; an over grown dirt road and sadly his destination.

He thought it would have been harder to find but here it was. The exit to the town had led him straight to the dirt road he was looking for. A dirt road that led right into the creepy woods that he wanted to avoid.

“You just had to live in the creepy forest, didn’t ya?” Stanley groused as the turned onto the dark path.

Gopher Road was a long, winding expanse that traveled far into the darkness of the forest. The whole pathway was bumpy and full of holes from rainfall washing away the loose soil. Vines and grass had cemented the some of the uneven street to the ground.

It did not take him long for him to pull up at the end of the road where a falling apart cabin sat. His red car pulled up next to a rusting truck that seemed to have been there for years. Vines were growing around the tires, branches and pine needles were all over the roof, and he bet if he tried to start it the car would not budge.

The house in front of him was not in any better shape. The door seemed to have been pulled open by something and the darkness that was inside it just gave a feeling of abandonment.  

That gut feeling from before had only got worse when he saw the house in such disarray. Stanley was very tempted to just turn around and come back to investigate in the morning when there was more light but the worry about what had happened to his brother pushed him forward.

His hands shook as he turned off the car. He waited until he got his flashlight from his bag before he turned off the headlights. The man flipped on the smaller light before he got out of the car.

A breeze blew as he closed the car door and made him shiver despite it being a warm wind. The summer night was turned icy with every step he took and every sound that came from the woods. He could feel the eyes from the woods on his back as he walked to the building.

He shined his flashlight out into the woods a few times as he did the short journey. The paranoia made the short walk seem longer. His steps were slow and hesitant as he made his way up the stairs. The wood of the porch groaned under his weight; it had not needed to support a human presence in quite some time.

Stanley shifted his grip on the flashlight and pulled the door slowly open. The careful movement seemed to do it for broken, unused door and it fell with a clatter. The man jumped at the sound and sent a paranoid glance back at the forest before he let the light of the flashlight illuminate the abandoned hallway of his brother’s home.

Mud, dirt, and leaves had made their home inside the house over the time the house had been left alone. Stan would not be surprised if animals had used this place as shelter during bad storms or squatters had found this place as a safe-haven over the years.

The idea of squatters having used this place made the discovery of the kitchen in disarray not as surprising as it should have been. The fridge was open and empty, pots and pans were all over the ground, a few mugs were broken and another seemed to be full of old coffee, and the food that had been in the pantry was either gone or scattered over the floor. It just gave the sense of this home being raided.

“Nice of them to clean up after themselves,” Stanley muttered under his breath as he left the kitchen doorway to explore the rest of the house.

The living area was in a better shape than he thought it would be. The television was still in front of the couch. Dirt covered the floor just like the rest of the house but that wasn’t a surprise. The couch was worn out but not destroyed but there was a coat draped over the back of it.

It did not look like a squatter’s coat. It had the air of being new when it was worn to this location and seemed to have only been worn a few times. He would have guessed it was his twin’s if it hadn’t been a few sized smaller than he could fit into.

Stan dropped the coat back onto the couch and moved through another doorway. He entered a large room that had different things scattered about. A dinosaur skull, weird machines, and chemicals in bottles. The main thing he was focused on was the only closed door in this entire first floor. He hesitantly made his way over to the door and pulled to find the door was jammed after being closed for so long. It took a few tugs before the door opened and let the cold, musty air that was hidden behind it out. Stan took a step back and clutched his flashlight tighter as he let the light hit every corner of the new area he had found.

The faint light of the beam hit the steep stairs leading down into the unknown darkness, the cobwebs handing from the ceiling, and a six-fingered hand print that seemed to forever mark the wall. If there was any place he would find the answers to what had happened to his brother it would probably be down these stairs.

Stanley took a breath and rolled his shoulders. He did not want to go down these stairs but the answers to what had happened to his brother could very well be hidden down this stair case.

“Creepy woods, creepy house and now a creepy stair case,” he whispered, “Ya’ know, Sixer. When I said that you should be in danger I was hoping I would drive up here and find you happy and angry to see me.”

He got no answer but silence and a flicker from his flashlight. With another breath to gain some courage the man took his first step into the unknown. The journey down the stair case was slow. He made sure to shine a light on every step so not to trip or step on a rat if any had made their home down there. When he got to the bottom he found his next obstacle: an elevator.

“What the Hell?” he said to himself. He shone the light around the contraption, “Why do you need an elevator in a basement?”

Stan took a closer look at the machinery and hesitantly touched the button that called the car. To his surprise the old metal working started to hum and the inner workings started to pull the old car up. Stan’s only conclusion on how it still had power was that it had to be working with its own power source; probably a generator. He stored that thought for later; the mysterious power source may come in handy later.

He stepped into the elevator when the car reached him and grimaced when he heard the metal groan under the weight. The lack of use and sitting forever in some unknown location under him probably made the metal weak. Stanley took a breath as he pressed the first button he saw, taking him to the third level of the basement. He hoped the machine would have enough strength to bring him down and back up.  

The further down the elevator went the more nervous Stan became at what he might find.

This was so much more than he had thought it was going to be. A basement with layers that were probably unknown to the builders, a house hidden away in the woods, and his brother just gone without any show that he had moved. When his mother asked him to come here, Stan had thought he would just find his brother rich in success and in his own world that did not involve any of them. Now, he was scared he was descending towards his brother’s grave.  

Stanley’s breath was taken away as he arrived at his destination and saw the room. The room was the definition of every sci-fi-horror nerds’ dream. The machines were covered in dirt and dust from lack of use, papers were scattered across the ground, and a few lights blinked on and off so it gave the space an eerie glow. He could almost thought he had stepped onto a movie set or this was all some kind of trippy dream.

His eyes were drawn away drawn away from the machines when he caught sight of something at the end of the room through a pane of protective glass. A giant triangle made of metal; a machine of some kind that looked like it had come from another world.

His feet walked towards it without him directing them to. Stan did not even glance at the warning signs around the door as he stepped into that machine’s room. The closer he got the larger it became; whatever this device was it certainly had a hold on him. It made him feel scared yet, at the same time, he was filled with wonder. What stopped Stanley’s journey towards it was something crunching under his dirty boots.

Stan stepped back at the noise and broke his gaze from the machine to look at the ground to see what he had stepped on. On the ground lay a cracked pair of round glasses; mangled from the foot that had just crushed them. Just a few steps away were another pair of glasses that matched the style he had last seen his brother wearing. He picked them both up and grimaced when the cracked glass of the spectacles fell to the ground.

Stan stared into the faint reflection of the glass and then looked back up at the portal. If this was all that remained of his brother then what had happened? Had this machine been the cause of his twin’s destruction? He wanted to ask these questions but the only thing that came out was:

“What did you do, Sixer?”

The biggest unanswered question out of all the ones swimming around in his mind. Stan’s simple journey to check on his brother had turned into something huge and beyond his imagination. It was giving more questions than answering them. He was left confused and daunted by everything around him.

Stanley pocketed both the glasses in his worn-out jacket and left the machine’s room to enter the lab again. He looked over the dirty machines before he spotted something that should have been his first thing to discover upon entering this room. A journal sat on a dust covered desk; the gold hand print was on the cover and shone bright under the light of Stan’s flashlight.

He set down the light and picked up the book gently. Without the glaring light of the flashlight he could easily see a number three written in the middle of the gold. Stan looked at looked at the attached monocle with mild interest before he opened the book. The name on the inside of the cover was all he needed before he dove into the story of what Stanford had been up the years before he disappeared.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the last complete chapter I got through

_Property of Stanford Pines._

Once Stanley had read those words he was hooked to the handwritten book. Every page held a peek into the kind of life Ford had been living since he last saw him. He had only started to get into the book when his flashlight died and he was forced back up into the house.

Stan was now sat at the old kitchen table with the dead flashlight and the light of the dawn helping him see. He sat by the windows to get the best light to see the words better.

Every word that was on a page Stan held onto tightly. The creatures, the adventures, and the overall strangeness of this town that his brother described he did not want to believe but he knew it all must be true. There was no way Stanford would stay out here so long or make these things up.

It was more than the adventures and monsters in this journal. Small things also caught his eyes as he read through the pages. Like, the codes and scattered symbols all throughout the journal. He got the feeling they were important. He gave a small sigh when he realized he was going to need to find books to help him decode all of it.

That was a task for later; he needed to focus on what he did learn from reading through his book.

Monsters and strange creatures were real and lived in the woods that surrounded the town and this very house. Stanford had been here for around six years before he had disappeared back in 1982. His brother had come across this slime ball of a muse that told him to build an interdimensional portal. Ford and his friend, ‘F’, had built the portal and were set to test it. This ‘F’ guy tried to put his brother to stop the test but Ford, being the stubborn ass he was, did not listen.

The day before the test the journal was left blank. The only conclusion was his brother and the other guy were sucked into the portal and lost in some other realm.  

Stanley stared at the last page that had been written on; a diagram that he assumed was part of the portal downstairs. Probably instructions on how it was built or how to operate it. He let the ink be lightly hit by the sunlight that was filtering through the dirty window before he closed the book.

 “Why couldn’t this have been simple?” Stanley muttered and hid his face in his hands. The book had brought him more problems and questions than answers.

What was he going to tell his mother? Her little mission of him coming up here had turned into something impossible. He could not just call her up and tell her that Stanford had built a dumb machine and got sucked into it. That his brother was probably deader than dead or at least lost forever since Stan did not know how to get him back.

Stanley moved his hands and stared at the book in front of him. He did not like to entertain the thoughts that he had come too late. That his brother was lost forever and probably dead. There was even the slim chance that the portal downstairs could still work; all the other machines seemed to be functioning.

Stan stood up quickly when that thought hit his head.

“It could still work,” he whispered and swiped the book off the table.

He headed out of the kitchen. His feet moved him quickly through the rooms until he was back at the door to the basement. That slim chance of the machine being able to work and bring his brother back caused delusional hope to grow quickly in his heart.

The man took the stairs two at a time ad held onto the side of the elevator as it made the slow journey down. He barely waited for the gate to open before Stan made his way across the room to the main control area of the portal.

“Okay. How do we do this?”

He set the book down on the desk he had found it on and started with his desperate idea.

Stan messed with the buttons and turned dials without really knowing what they did. Without the translations on the Journal’s code he was winging it. When nothing happened there he moved into the main area and pulled on a lever that stood in the middle of the room.

“Come on,” he grit out and pulled on the lever desperately, “Come on. Come on.”

He tried everything that looked like it belonged to the machine to try and get it work or give any sign of life. All these attempts came up negative. The years of sitting dormant had left it without power and maybe even broken after the first failed attempt.

“Work!” He kicked the lever in frustration and the metal dented. “Come on you stupid piece of shit just fucking work!”

He kept up the kicks until the lever fell off. The rusted metal was in no condition for the rough treatment that Stanley had delivered.

The man crumpled to the ground and took a deep breath to calm himself down. That little bit of hope that he had fed too much had been crushed in the smallest time span imaginable. He almost wanted to throw a temper tantrum because of the hopelessness of the situation. The one easy chance was a failure.

 “Why can’t anything be easy with you, Stanford?” he muttered.

With a deep sigh, he sat up and looked at the portal hopelessly. He could not just sit down here and hoped by some higher power it was turn itself on and work. He was outmatched in the brain department to even begin to tackle this problem.

With another sigh, he stood up and grabbed journal off the desk. Stanley sluggishly made his way back into the elevator and hit the button to bring him back to the top floor. The elevator caught about halfway up but a quick hit to the controls made it move again.

“Gonna have to fix that,” he muttered to himself as the journey continued.

Stan felt more lost and confused than he had ever been in his life as he stepped off the contraption. He moved back up the stairs in a daze with the book clutched in his hands. He stared at the messy room the door was hidden in as if his desperate looks would give him the answers he desperately needed.

All Stan got was silence and some dust that floated in an invisible draft. There was no answer given to how he should go about this situation. No answer to if he should even bother to start the portal up. No answer to if his brother was even alive on the other side of that contraption.

The idea of calling his mother once again popped into his head but he quickly dismissed it. He could not tell her this. It would be impossible to explain what had happened. He could not just come out and tell her that her second son was lost in a dimension because of a machine he was tricked into making. Stan could not tell her that he had no idea how to save his brother.

“No,” Stan mumbled, “Can’t tell Ma about this. Gotta think of something else.”

Stanley moved out of the storage room and hesitantly sat down on the couch next to the coat. The man blankly stared ahead at the television and sighed. He glanced once at the book in his lap before it finally clicked.

He stood up quickly and stared at the journal like it was the first time he was seeing it. The gold leaf on the front reflected his face but Stan’s eyes were not focused on that. They were glued to the number three printed in the middle of the palm.

“Three,” Stan said to himself, “That means there are two more. Two more with the dumb portal’s instructions or something.”

Stan laughed. There was his hope; the journals had to have the other parts of the portal’s instructions in them. He just had to find the other two and he could start working to start that device and, hopefully, save his brother from some unknown fate.

He lowered the book from his face and looked around the dingy living room.

“Okay,” he said to himself in a reassuring tone, “If I was Ford where would I hide my nerd books?”

Stanley closed his eyes and hummed to himself. It had been a long time since he had to do the ‘think like Ford’ trick, usually it was to figure out where his twin had hidden the candy in their room, but he was sure that this would work.

The man moved to the doorway of the living room before he opened his eyes to look down the hallway. He took a breath and moved away from the doorway he had entered the night before and glanced into any room he saw. His feet stopped in front of a door and he looked at the wood with interest.

The door was pushed open enough for him to see that sunlight was coming through a window in there. He pushed the door open more to see what it held. A pleased smile appeared on his face seeing that the room was set up like an office space.

“Bingo,” he whispered to himself and entered the room.

The room was not that special in contents. A sitting area under an open window, a desk, and very few personal items. Books, papers, and other random things seemed to be scattered around the floor. Stan concluded that mess was made from whatever escaped from the busted open car carrier that sat in the corner.

He was not too focused on the mess as he made his way over to the desk and set his journal down on top of it before he began his search.

Stanley started to go through the drawers to see if he could find another journal like the one he already had. He pulled out blueprints, scribbled on notebook paper, fax sheets, pens, and pencils. He pulled out all the drawers to dump them out to see if they have a false bottom. When the desk proves to have nothing, he moved over to the two bookshelves and scattered novels around the room.

Stan picks up every book and looks them over. If they were not the certain two he was searching for he would stack them up on the desk. The stack on the desk soon became two, then three, and then half of a fourth when, finally, he spotted it.

Stan dropped the books he was just about to carry over to the pile to reach for his prize. The maroon colored journal had either fallen or had been flung behind the bookcase. The reasons for its hidden place did not matter to Stan as he pulled it to freedom.

Behind the bookcase the journal had been open and the pages had been stuck folded over. Stan tried his best to smooth them out again before he closed it gently since he sensed the journal’s spine may have been hurt as well.

Despite how careful he was being, Stanley was full of excitement that he had now located two out of, hopefully, three journals. The shining gold on the cover of the journal shone up in the dusty light of the house like a beacon of hope. Behind the number one written on the palm, the material reflected Stan’s hopeful grin.

“Two down, one to go,” Stan said to himself and set the book down next to the third journal and went back to searching the office area.

He picked up the rest of the books on the floor and emptied the bookshelves so he could search thoroughly behind them all. He did not want to miss anything. There had been nothing back behind them but dust and a small flip-note book that was written in someone’s handwriting that was too messy to be his brother’s. Stan had flipped through it out of curiosity and found to his delight terrible jokes and sarcastic comments that surrounded random math equations that made no sense to him.

He set the little notebook down on top of the journals and went back to his search for the second and last journal. The search resulted in the room becoming cleaner than when he had found it. The window was shut, the books put away, and the dirt on the ground had been swept up. Everything was spotless and he had found a few papers in the desk that he believed would be helpful, but he had not found the second journal.


End file.
